Bhí an ghrian ag taitneamh go geal trasna ar pháirc bhreá i gContae Chorcaí, áit a raibh an féar óga ag fanacht leis an bhfómhar.

The sun was shining brightly across a fine field in Contae Chorcaí, where the fresh grass was waiting for the harvest.

Bhí na cnoic glas timpeall, breactha le caoirigh ag innilt go ciúin.

The green hills around were dotted with sheep grazing quietly.

Ba é tús an tsamhraidh é, agus bhí daoine ar muin an hionna Lá Lughnasa a cheiliúradh.

It was the beginning of summer, and people were celebrating Lá Lughnasa.

Bhí an bainne milis ina ghaisce lena rith isteach sna huiscí.

The sweet milk was flowing into the streams with enthusiasm.

Bhí mearfaidh na beilte sa spéir, agus an aimsir iontach.

There was a dance of light in the sky, and the weather was wonderful.

Bhí Niamh i mbun oibre.

Niamh was hard at work.

Bhí a súile socair, ach bhí a croí lán le misneach.

Her eyes were steady, but her heart was full of courage.

“Tá orainn an barra seo a fháil roimh an stoirm”, a dúirt sí go dáiríre, ag breathnú amach ar na réimsí.

“We need to get this crop in before the storm,” she said seriously, looking out over the fields.

Bhíodh spóirt aici leis an tuath, ach anois bhí idir dhá chomhairle.

She wanted to show her father that she was capable of managing the farm properly.

Chomh maith léi, bhí Cormac sa pháirc freisin, cé go raibh a cheann ag smaoineamh ar áiteanna eile.

With her was Cormac, who was also in the field, though his mind was thinking of other places.

Bhí sé ag iarraidh dul amach ó thír, ach mhothaigh sé freagrach as Niamh agus an feirm.

He wanted to go abroad, but he felt responsible for Niamh and the farm.

Bhí a fhios aige nach mbeadh sé fíoréasca.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Ba é an t-am sin a chuaigh Aisling, cara a bhí ag teacht chuile shamhradh ón mBaile Átha Cliath, ar ais ar cuairt.

It was that time that Aisling, a friend who came every summer from Baile Átha Cliath, returned for a visit.

Bhíodh spóirt aici leis an tuath, ach anois bhí idir dhá chomhairle.

She used to enjoy the countryside, but now she was caught in two minds.

“Cormac, ní mór duit do lámh a iontú”, arsa Niamh lá amháin le congnamh de dhíth, rud a chuir éagobhacht ina measc.

“Cormac, you need to turn your hand,” Niamh said one day, needing help, which caused a bit of unease among them.

“Fás nó dírí ar Cnámh na Feirme - cad a roghnófá?”.

“Grow or focus on the farm's core - what would you choose?”

B'eolach don bhriathar gur eochair féin a chiall go fada.

It was well known that the word itself had a long-standing meaning.

Bhí trioblóid ann nuair a tháinig scamaill mhóra liatha sa spéir, agus chomaoin a riall an stoirm.

There was trouble when big gray clouds appeared in the sky, governing the onset of the storm.

Rith na triúir in éineacht le chéile, ag iarraidh an féar a sábháil.

The three of them ran together, trying to save the grass.

Bhí iarracht gach aon duine ríthábhachtach.

Everyone’s effort was crucial.

Bhí lá cuimhneach sin, an áit ag foghlaim in éineacht léi.

That memorable day, the place learned alongside them.

Ag deireadh an lae, bhí gach rud in ord.

At the end of the day, everything was in order.

Bhí a lán gnóthaithe acu, agus cé go mbaineadh an fharraige fuinneamh astu, mhothaigh siad comhfhios spreagtha.

They had achieved a lot, and even though the work had drained them, they felt a renewed sense of motivation.

“Tá súil agam nach raibh chéile ar iarraidh”, a dúirt Cormac go caoin, ag breathnú ar Aisling, agus é féin ag smaoineamh ar todhchaí nár fhág taobh thiar.

“I hope nothing was missing,” said Cormac gently, looking at Aisling, while he himself was contemplating a yet untouched future.

Bhí Niamh sásta go ndearnadh a méid siúd, agus bhí muinín úr aici ina comhfoirt.

Niamh was pleased with what had been accomplished, and she had newfound confidence in her abilities.

Ag imeacht An t-Oileán, d’fhan Aisling.

As An t-Oileán was leaving, Aisling stayed.

Thug sí gealltanas dóibh go dtabharfadh sí cuimhne suas arís.

She promised them she would bring back memories again.

Thug an t-am le chéile tuiscint nár bhain daoine leis go dtí anois.

The time spent together brought an understanding that people hadn’t realized until now.

Léirigh sé a teachtaireacht dhraíochta don mhaideál.

It delivered its magical message to the heartstring.

Chomh luath a bhí an ghrian ag titim, ba léir gur tháinig an spiorad Lughnasa i ré mar scaoil focail briste ghrian an chroí - “Rialaigh an Fómhar, agus dána arís.”

As soon as the sun was setting, it was clear that the spirit of Lughnasa had arrived as broken words released the heart’s sunshine - “Govern the Harvest, and be bold again.”